Iggy & The Stooges at Hammersmith Apollo
Iggy & The Stooges
Suicide
Hammersmith Apollo, 3 May 2010
Iggy Pop these days seems better known for hawking car insurance on TV than his music. Sending up his image as a wild rock and roller, he appears to have become this cartoonish figure that even non-music fans would instantly recognise. It sort of makes you wonder then, if your gran knows who the weird, rubbery old man who likes to take off his shirt is, maybe his shows have become as tame as his image seems to have. Thankfully that's not the case at all, something he blasts away with certainty the moment he jumps (literally) on stage with his old comrades The Stooges at this ATP show featuring the band playing their classic album Raw Power in its entirety.
With the band launching speedily into the first notes of Raw Power as soon as they strap on their guitars, Iggy leaps on wearing just black jeans and a leather waistcoast (no shirt of course), jumping and twisting energetically in a way that belies his 63 years of age. The waistcoast hardly lasts half a song before it's thrown to the floor in order to give us the best possible view of that leatherly tanned body of his. At times, when he's leaping in the air or throwing himself into strange positions, it looks incredibly youthful and strong, but then he lands back on the ground and once again he reminds you more of one of those prehistoric bodies found preserved in ice.
Iggy, it seems, likes to get close to the audience and spends half the time hunched up to the crowd with various hands grabbing at him the entire time, and even though the media reported he had vowed never to do it again when a bunch of fans failed to catch him, he jumps several times into the audience who eagerly catch him and try to hold on to him even when the security guards are prying him back in an attempt to get him back on stage.
Iggy also likes to have his trousers hanging precariously off him at all times, which maybe was a thrill to some when he was young and pretty, not so much now that he's kind of crinkly and sagging. Seeing Iggy's ageing butt crack in the flesh, so to speak, wasn't exactly the most the delightful time I've had at a gig, although not unexpected, and worryingly I thought the jeans were going to end up by his ankles at one point, they had drifted so far down an inch more and we would have seen everything. It did strike me that an old man letting his trousers drift down in front of a crowd would be an arrestable offence in any other circumstance, here we're either amused or cheering it.
But all of this just adds to the show and really, what a showman he is, one can only wonder how incredible, brutal and mind-blowing it must have been to see The Stooges back in the day because even now they are a force to be reckoned with and put on one hell of an exciting show that bands half their age can't seem to manage. The rest of the guys in the band (including guitarist James Williamson, drummer Scott Asheton, saxophonist Steve MacKay and bassist Mike Watt) all look like grandads, with their white hair and shirts but man, can they play with a raw intensity that matches Iggy's reckless energy. They speed through most of the Raw Power album before you can catch your breath, with Your Pretty Face Is Going To Hell beautifully menacing and Gimme Danger giving chills with Iggy's low, low voice. At one point, given Iggy's love of getting nearer his audience, he invites the whole crowd on stage and for one number (Shake Appeal) I'm pushed aside by a rush of fans trying to get nearer to their hero and Iggy and the band can barely be seen rocking out through all the people dancing around them (a mixture of old punks, goth-types and teenagers it seems). Although it's an exciting spectacle (not so much being pushed aside though) it distracts from the music and thankfully it only lasts one number before the crowd are escorted back behind the barrier.
Before you know it, the whole Raw Power album has been played and it's on to such classic tracks as I Got A Right, I Wanna Be Your Dog, 1970, Fun House, L.A. Blues... I can barely remember them all, except they sounded as good live as I always imagined listening to them on my headphones all these years. And then it was over before anyone even realised, all a wild rush of distorted guitars, crazy sax and sweaty, bare flesh. Exactly how a Stooges concert should be in fact. Even in their 60s, officially pensioners, Iggy and The Stooges know how to put on a breathlessly, exciting show.
In direct contrast was the opening act, legendary New York synthpunk band Suicide. A lot of people I know hold this band in high regard and there's no doubting their influence but their music always left me kind of cold. Still I was excited to see them, if only so I could say "I've seen Suicide live" but their monotonous, atmopherics at times were kind of mesmerising and at others pretty dull. It didn't help that the beat was up so high in the mix it dominated the sound and that the echo on the vocals made it difficult to decipher anything frontman Alan Vega was singing (and even saying inbetween songs). And of course the fact that they are a duo that do little more than stand there on stage (Vega fiddled with his water bottles on the drum riser during a lot of the instrumental portions of the songs or wandered off stage altogether) didn't help keep things exciting either. I thought, even more than on their classic 1977 self-titled debut, live the songs sounded pretty similar but fans will probably call me a philistine for not "getting it". Still, like them or not, I've seen Suicide live. There, I got to say it but I'm more thankful and excited to say I got to see Iggy & The Stooges.
With the band launching speedily into the first notes of Raw Power as soon as they strap on their guitars, Iggy leaps on wearing just black jeans and a leather waistcoast (no shirt of course), jumping and twisting energetically in a way that belies his 63 years of age. The waistcoast hardly lasts half a song before it's thrown to the floor in order to give us the best possible view of that leatherly tanned body of his. At times, when he's leaping in the air or throwing himself into strange positions, it looks incredibly youthful and strong, but then he lands back on the ground and once again he reminds you more of one of those prehistoric bodies found preserved in ice.
Iggy, it seems, likes to get close to the audience and spends half the time hunched up to the crowd with various hands grabbing at him the entire time, and even though the media reported he had vowed never to do it again when a bunch of fans failed to catch him, he jumps several times into the audience who eagerly catch him and try to hold on to him even when the security guards are prying him back in an attempt to get him back on stage.
Iggy also likes to have his trousers hanging precariously off him at all times, which maybe was a thrill to some when he was young and pretty, not so much now that he's kind of crinkly and sagging. Seeing Iggy's ageing butt crack in the flesh, so to speak, wasn't exactly the most the delightful time I've had at a gig, although not unexpected, and worryingly I thought the jeans were going to end up by his ankles at one point, they had drifted so far down an inch more and we would have seen everything. It did strike me that an old man letting his trousers drift down in front of a crowd would be an arrestable offence in any other circumstance, here we're either amused or cheering it.
But all of this just adds to the show and really, what a showman he is, one can only wonder how incredible, brutal and mind-blowing it must have been to see The Stooges back in the day because even now they are a force to be reckoned with and put on one hell of an exciting show that bands half their age can't seem to manage. The rest of the guys in the band (including guitarist James Williamson, drummer Scott Asheton, saxophonist Steve MacKay and bassist Mike Watt) all look like grandads, with their white hair and shirts but man, can they play with a raw intensity that matches Iggy's reckless energy. They speed through most of the Raw Power album before you can catch your breath, with Your Pretty Face Is Going To Hell beautifully menacing and Gimme Danger giving chills with Iggy's low, low voice. At one point, given Iggy's love of getting nearer his audience, he invites the whole crowd on stage and for one number (Shake Appeal) I'm pushed aside by a rush of fans trying to get nearer to their hero and Iggy and the band can barely be seen rocking out through all the people dancing around them (a mixture of old punks, goth-types and teenagers it seems). Although it's an exciting spectacle (not so much being pushed aside though) it distracts from the music and thankfully it only lasts one number before the crowd are escorted back behind the barrier.
Before you know it, the whole Raw Power album has been played and it's on to such classic tracks as I Got A Right, I Wanna Be Your Dog, 1970, Fun House, L.A. Blues... I can barely remember them all, except they sounded as good live as I always imagined listening to them on my headphones all these years. And then it was over before anyone even realised, all a wild rush of distorted guitars, crazy sax and sweaty, bare flesh. Exactly how a Stooges concert should be in fact. Even in their 60s, officially pensioners, Iggy and The Stooges know how to put on a breathlessly, exciting show.
In direct contrast was the opening act, legendary New York synthpunk band Suicide. A lot of people I know hold this band in high regard and there's no doubting their influence but their music always left me kind of cold. Still I was excited to see them, if only so I could say "I've seen Suicide live" but their monotonous, atmopherics at times were kind of mesmerising and at others pretty dull. It didn't help that the beat was up so high in the mix it dominated the sound and that the echo on the vocals made it difficult to decipher anything frontman Alan Vega was singing (and even saying inbetween songs). And of course the fact that they are a duo that do little more than stand there on stage (Vega fiddled with his water bottles on the drum riser during a lot of the instrumental portions of the songs or wandered off stage altogether) didn't help keep things exciting either. I thought, even more than on their classic 1977 self-titled debut, live the songs sounded pretty similar but fans will probably call me a philistine for not "getting it". Still, like them or not, I've seen Suicide live. There, I got to say it but I'm more thankful and excited to say I got to see Iggy & The Stooges.
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